


honey in the rock and the sugar don't stop

by youareiron_andyouarestrong



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, Honeymoon, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youareiron_andyouarestrong/pseuds/youareiron_andyouarestrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Kelly has a quick mouth and a clever tongue and Katherine benefits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	honey in the rock and the sugar don't stop

Jack Kelly has a clever mouth and quick tongue and he uses it to whatever advantage he can get.

His wife (he’s not going to get tired of that any time soon, his _wife_ ) has her legs over his shoulders and his face is between her thighs and he _cannot stop_ kissing her in that secret place. He’d had a peach once at the height of summer, ripe to the point of bursting, juices dripping down his chin, the flesh warm and soft. The very heart of her tastes like peaches, salt and something dark that makes him all the way crazy. He wants the taste of peaches and salt and dark for the rest of his life, he wants her moans and cries, he feels like the greedy street urchin that kept him alive during the hard years.

_Mine, mine, mine…_

He growls deep in his throat and Katherine above him gasps and squirms, her hips rocking up into his face. He returns to his self-appointed task with new energy, tongue eager and desperate. He’s going to do this for as long as she lets him, as long as she’s begging, as long as he can drink her down, better than whiskey or any other liquor he’s ever had.

He’s heard whispers of this kind of thing from the “working girls” down at the docks and when he was fifteen, a girl with brilliantly dyed blonde hair sidled up to him one hot summer night and slid one hand between his legs. She made an offer and he didn’t turn her down, but Jack Kelly got to be known for being… _honorable_ , he would pay even if they didn’t fully “satisfy” and he _got_ an education among them; where to touch and how to kiss and to say words in a girl’s ear that made them shake and melt. He couldn’t bring himself to lie with any girl completely and they didn’t blame him; no one wanted to risk bringing a child into the world when neither parent could support it. But he puts that knowledge to good use now; he wants to take everything he’s ever learned and lay it at Katherine’s feet, worship her for true with his body like he swore before an altar he would.

Katherine is gasping and saying his name breathlessly above him, mixed in with curses and prayers and this makes him needy and frantic to please her, to do anything she asks of him, anything at all. She’s asking (demanding) that he not stop and he doesn’t, he laps and sucks and kisses and finds the tiny pearl of nerves that they discovered together. He latches on to it and _hums_ , deep and low in his throat and Katherine’s back arches off the bed and his name is like a scream and growl and he keeps on humming even when the aftershocks ripple through her.

He finally comes up for air, jaw aching and mouth swollen and wet and she’s boneless and shaking. He slowly crawls his way up her body, one of her hands winds into his hair and drags him up the rest of the way, his mouth to hers. She whimpers as they kiss, because she can _taste_ herself on him, and he settles into the cradle of her hips, open-mouthed and lazy tongues.

He hums again into her mouth and she pulls away a little, head tilted back. “Stop,” she gasps out, “stop, I can’t—”

He stops humming but he cradles her face as he gentles his kisses until she stops shaking so much.  “Ace,” he murmurs into her skin that smells like them now, sweat and musk and her lavender soap, “Ace, Katherine, angel, you want me to stop?”

“I don’t _know,_ ” she groans, her body still arching into his. “I think you half killed me.”

Jack laughs softly and bites the side of her jaw lightly. “Sweetheart, I promise you, you’re still breathing.”

“I feel like butter that’s been melted,” she murmurs, hands moving up and down his back. “Melted and _spread_.” She pauses for a moment before smacking the back of his head gently. “Don’t say it.”

“I wasn’t gonna,” he lies with a grin and a huff of exasperated affection escapes her.

“The most _impossible_ boy,” she says, letting him settle more comfortably on top of her, “ _ever_.”

He laughs softly into her skin and their bodies connect in interesting ways. Their laughter becomes soft sighs and groans, slick skin sliding against cotton sheets.

He takes his time with it now, rocking a slow, steady rhythm.  The pace continues dragged out and leisurely, until Katherine growls and digs her nails into his back. “Slow,” she says through her teeth, “you are going _too_ _slow_.”

“I ain’t even started yet,” he says back, still keeping his pace. He gives her a grin of challenge. “You gonna do something about it, Ace?”

The look in her eye is the only warning he gets; she has one leg hooked over his hip and before he’s aware, he’s flat on his back with her on top, knees sinking down into the mattress on either side of him. “You asked for it,” she warns him and the _sound_ he makes, a guttural laugh of satisfaction, makes her shiver on top of her.

“C’mon Ace,” he says, letting his hands settle on her hips, to help her move, “c’mon, do your worst. I dare you.”

She laughs, the sound breathless and gasping, and she sets the pace now, slow at first but builds into something fast and furious. She gets one hand in his hair and pulls, making him hiss as he sits upright, her astride him.  It is not kissing now, it is devouring and mingling of breath.

There is no sound in the room but skin against each other and the noises they’re making, and maybe it lasts for forever or maybe for a moment, but soon, soon, she’s crying out and he’s snarling into the kiss and the wave breaks.

They collapse against each other, unable to even stay upright, sinking back down the bed, limbs a tangle. He can’t even tell which limb belongs to whom. Finally, he eases her besides him, pushing hair out of her face with careful, trailing fingers.    

He says in her ear, “What’s a good girl like you doin’… lettin’ a guy like me… have my way with you?”  

“Excuse you,” she pants out, “I think…at this juncture… _I_ had _my_ way…with _you.”_

“Yeah you did,” he says smiling because she _did_ and it’s amazing, “I love it. What would you call it then?”

She starts giggling helplessly, face pressed against his neck as she gets out between giggles, “My…mother used to call it…. _congress._ ”

Now they’re _both_ laughing, gasping for air between fits of humor. “Oh god,” Jack finally gets out, wheezing, “I can’t do a cartoon about that ever again.”

Their laughter dies down a little as she winds her body around his like a morning glory vine. She sighs and settles into her natural place curled up against his ribs as one of his hands weaves its way into her hair. “I love you,” she tells the place where his heart beats, where it follows the rhythm of her voice. “For sure.”

He wraps his arms around her, a small shelter made of nothing less than his muscle and bone and love.  “For sure,” he finishes their promise to each other and eventually, they drift off to sleep.    

**Author's Note:**

> it's been 84 years and I still can't believe I wrote this. first posted on my tumblr.


End file.
